“Conditions”
With a mug of his
favorite coffee, John went into the storage room/his office and locked the door
so the cat wouldn’t get in. He set the
mug on his desk, then walked over to the stereo set on a metal shelf and put on
a Vivaldi CD. The music started and he
adjusted the volume until it was a soft background. Returning to his desk he sat down and turned
on his laptop. The twins had birthday
money burning holes in their pockets, so his wife Melanie had taken them out
for a day of shopping, giving him an afternoon of peace and quiet to work on
his novel.
He opened the file and
read over the last few paragraphs. After
a sip of coffee, he put his fingers on the keys … but nothing came.
Sipping his coffee, he
read over the last couple of pages he had written. When he got to the end, he put his fingers
back on the keys, but they just rested there.
He knew where his novel needed to go, he just didn’t know how to get it
there.
With a sigh, he sat
back. For the first time in months, he
had hours where he wasn’t at work, or sleeping, or dealing with two
rambunctious six-year-olds. It was
everything he’d been wishing for.
Looking at the ceiling, he gave a mirthless chuckle. “How could I be expected to write under these
conditions?”
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